Deux Claret: How We Came To Be
by DXIII
Summary: Prequel to Bells of Eden's "Deux Claret" trilogy, done with her permission/blessing. Witness the rise and fall of Cybertron through the eyes of a Seeker rising through the Decepticon ranks. Rated for safety. -HEY, LOOK, UPDATE!-
1. Book 1: Prologue: Coronation

Deux Claret: How We Came To Be

_Okay, first order of business here (because I just KNOW people are gonna ask about it): "Pandora" is on hold purely for, well, real-life issues that have taken quite a toll on me. Ask me via PM, and you might get an answer in regards to the above. But suffice to say, I __**WILL **__have the third chapter of that unholy fiend out by…um…crap. I dunno. *gulp* Anyhow…_

_This here's my first foray into the Transformers universe, though thankfully I've done a wee bit o' research beforehand. How We Came To Be is, as the title implies, set in 's "Deux Claret"-verse (who, by the way, was very kind in giving her permission for this little project, and to whom I apologise profusely for taking so damned long to get this off the ground) and will give a bit of background into why everyone's favorite Decepticon Air Commander – sorry, __**former**__ Decepticon Air Commander (heehee) – is such a cold-sparked slagger by the time of "How We Seared The Sky". Time-wise, it's set pre-to-early/mid-war (though it opens just as he and Skyfire take to the air with the human Air Forces in "The Day We Hailed The Heavens"). Might even stretch to the jettisoning of the AllSpark, haven't decided yet. We'll see how it goes. Tyger Pax…oy. -_-_

_And now, the disclaimer: Anything you recognise is property of their respective owners. Shame, 'cause I wouldn't mind having my own personal Seeker from time to time. Only thing that's mine is the general storyline, the second part of the title, and the computer on which this is being written._

_Disclaimer 2__nd__: No bananas were consumed during the writing of this fic. Lots of Twix bars and cheese sandwiches, though. And one or two M&Ms…_

_---  
_

**What Now Is**

When had it happened? When had the great Starscream – the mighty Decepticon Air Commander; Second-in-Command to Megatron himself and heir to the title of Decepticon Leader – gotten into the mindset that found him – _him_, the very mech who had unmade more sparks than the Prime himself – leading the humans – squishy, idiotic, organic, and generally _pathetic _fleshlings – into battle against the Lord of Darkness himself, Unicron?

And when the Primus-forbidden _frag _had he ever been so distracted by thoughts and hopes of another's survival during battle? Not just any other, though: a _human_, one of the same obnoxiously loud, crass, and annoying meat-bags he happened to be escorting toward their certain collective demise.

Except…she wasn't. She wasn't just another human, another fragile native to this beautiful organic planet. Not in his optics, at any rate. No, Alexis Paxton was something far more to him; something closer and more intimate, more _precious _to him than his own well-being.

He'd never envisioned ever having a spark-mate, much less a bonded one, not even since…since…_then._

_**Book I: Genesis**_

_**Prologue**_

**What Once Was**

_It's in here, it has to be. It's definitely in here because I SAW the damned thing not two cycles ago..._Starscream's internal mantra was more of an aside to himself as he dug, hunched over a workbench sitting under an over-hanging glowpanel, through the toolbox which he was certain held what he was looking for. _Gotcha –_

[Hey, 'Screamer?] His comm. went off, startling him out of his search and causing him to whack his cranial unit on the aforementioned panel. A litany of curses, followed by an irate [WHAT?!] was his reply. He caught himself and forced his vents to cycle, running a rarely-used calming subroutine before he continued. [I mean, yes, Skywarp?]

If his assistant felt any emotion regarding Starscream's outburst, it was overshadowed by the excitement in his voice. [You're going to want to see this, boss. Tune your vidscreen to Twelve Six Alpha Three.] The scientist's optics took on a gleam of their own, interruption forgotten. [The coronation,] he mused. [Thank you, Skywarp. Alert the rest of the department.] With an audible grin in his voice, his assistant replied. [Way ahead of you,] and with that the link fell silent.

This was what he had waited for; what he'd saved his inactive duty allotment for, and he would be damned to the Pit if he were to miss it purely because Sentinel Prime himself had ordered all Science heads to their offices to expedite work on "The Project". Swivelling, he uplinked with his wall-mounted vidscreen and made the necessary frequency adjustments as it snapped to life, portraying a wide pan shot of the Senate Hall in Iacon.

Two mechs could be seen kneeling near the front of the room, where Chief Senator Ultra Magnus was conducting the ceremony so long awaited by all of Cybertron. Behind him sat Sentinel Prime, awaiting his cue to step forward and bestow the Matrix Of Leadership upon his chosen successor.

"-have been fighting this war for a long while, but due to the actions of Megar Pax," here, Magnus gestured to one of the kneeling mechs; heavily-armored silver plating covering a powerfully-built protoform, "our enemies have gone into full retreat. Indeed, it was his own brother Orion," and Magnus gestured to the other form; a vibrant cobalt frame wrapped around a high-ranking dock worker barely half a head shorter than Megar, "who denied the Quintessons use of the northern gate of our greatest city." Magnus paused as the crowd in attendance cheered madly, the identities of two war heroes now uncovered. "It is due to these actions," he continued, once the crowd had become silent, "that we are here this day; to honor these two mechs as befits one who has done Cybertron and her people a great service."

It was then that Sentinel stood, as Magnus bowed and backed away respectfully. "Citizens of Cybertron," he began in his typical deep bass "this-is-the-will-of-Primus" (as Starscream and many of his fellows had jokingly termed it) rumble, "My time as a Prime has been one of strife. Whilst we have built a mighty empire on our beloved homeworld, it has been at the cost of our colonies elsewhere. Tyger Pax dissolved into anarchy, and was thus the first to fall to our foes. You all know the statistics; roughly ninety percent of our off-world projects have been claimed by the enemy swarm, Naltir Seven the latest among them." He hesitated to let the last sink in, then continued. "Even in these darkest of days, however, Primus shines his light upon us. For here before us we have two mechs who have defended their home with a ferocity that belies their core programming. Indeed, it is these two that have cost the Quintessons so much as to pull their forces into retreat. That is why they were listed in the candidacy for the next Prime. However as you know from the ancient texts, there can be only one Prime."

Confusion promptly spread throughout the Hall, and was mirrored by those watching the ceremony's broadcast. _I still don't get it,_ thought Starscream. _Why have the two of them there when only one can ascend? _His thoughts were cut off as the current Prime continued. "While there can only be one Prime, we the Council have agreed upon the necessity for a separate post; one who would answer only to the Prime himself. Therefore," here he turned to address the two figures before him, "one of you will succeed me in my post, and the other will be granted the title of Lord High Protector. Though subordinate to the Prime, you will command Cybertron's military and, indeed, Cybertron herself."

Sentinel's hands moved to his chest as he inwardly initiated the release program for the specially-protected chamber for the precious cargo he had carried at all times. As he gently pried loose the glowing metallic orb, his chest slid shut with a click that echoed throughout the Hall in a sort of finality. He held it aloft and spoke. "As it was passed to me by Nova Prime, so too shall I pass the Matrix...to you." He turned to the blue form and extended it to the visibly shocked mech, though his faceplates betrayed nothing.

_Ohhh, Sky's not going to be happy, _Starscream cackled inwardly to himself. He and the Field Director, a long-time friend named Skyfire, had wagered against one another as to the identity of the next Prime. Skyfire (along with nearly half of Starscream's own staff) had believed Megar Pax to be next in line for leadership, based on his work on the campaign against the Quintessons. Starscream, however, had put his credits on Orion Pax. _A dock worker who, in just a single engagement, takes out more of the enemy in melee combat alone than the Council's favoured soldier? I'd be a fool to bet against a statistic like that, _he'd said.

"Through your courage you have shown you are worthy of the mantle of Prime. Thus, your life as Orion Pax ends this day. Rise...Optimus Prime." The blue mech did so to thunderous applause as Sentinel turned to the second figure. "You have caused more damage to the enemy than any other of our forces save for my chosen successor. Your command has been absolute and instrumental in ensuring our survival. Thus I grant you the title of the Cybertron's first Lord High Protector. You are Megar Pax no more. Arise...Megatron." The silver mech followed his brother's example, and as one they turned to face the now-roaring crowd.

As the noise of the crowd ebbed away, Sentinel intoned his final words as Prime. "With these appointments, we sow the seeds of peace for a new era. Let Cybertron now surge forward into a golden age! Go forth, children of Primus. Until all are one!" His last four words echoing around the chamber, he made his exit as the newly-titled Optimus Prime and Megatron headed for the main exit in tandem, several guards clearing the path before them. Starscream shut off the vidscreen and turned back to the previously abandoned workbench, internally composing a quick memo to Skyfire gloating on the outcome of the ceremony.

---

_So ends the prologue. Next time: Tensions arise between 'Screamer, 'Warp, and TC; Prime and Megatron's first day in office; and the introduction of some familiar faces..._


	2. Book 1: Chapter I: Alpha

"_We've travelled through time and space my friends/To rock this house again..."_

_So, it's been nearly two years. We're all older, wiser, and hyped for Dark Of The Moon :P Seriously, though. If there's one lesson I can take away from all this, it's to never start a wordy-project-thingy without some means to record later chapters/plot ideas/etc. You never know when you might lose your PC. Or your living arrangements. Or both. At the same time._

_ Meanwhile, this project will be undergoing some minor realignment. I don't think it's going to be anywhere near as big as I originally intended (eighty-plus chapters HELLZ NO) but it will be fairly hefty. Lots of events to cover, after all. Finally, I'd like to apologise twofold: sorry I kept you all waiting, and I'm afraid I can make no guarantees as to an update schedule. You can, however, check both my dA account (link's in my profile) for info/thought/ramblings and the Deux Claret Wiki for any relevant info pertaining to the series._

_ Moving on...__**DISCLAIMER: **__If I owned it, RoTF would have played out slightly different, and DoTM would be out by now (though it technically is, what with previews and all). Damn you Bay/Paramount, and your enticing teasers!_

-0-0-

_**Book I: Genesis**_

_**Chapter One: Alpha**_

Skyfire groaned as he brought his hand to his faceplate in an "oh-Primus-why-me" gesture. "There'll be no living with him after this," he muttered to his companion.

Thundercracker just grinned. "You're just ticked 'cause we all bet against you and won, for once." His tone was more playful jab than anything else, and Skyfire managed a light chuckle at it. "That aside, it is a personal victory for him. Did Starscream tell you what _his_ stipulation was?"

Thundercracker's reply was cut off as the lab doors hissed open to admit a mildly-dejected Skywarp, muttering to himself. Thundercracker turned to the new arrival, mirth setting his optics alight. "Megar Pax?" Skywarp abruptly cut off his barely audible rant as he shot the other aide a quick glare. "Yes. Megar fragging Pax."

Skyfire sensed the lack of conviction in his voice, and raised an optic-guard. "Somehow, I get the feeling you're not as upset as you claim to be." Skywarp's glare melted into an anticipatory smile. "Intuitive as ever, Sky. Cybertron's turned into a planet-wide party; we'd be idiots to miss a chance to throw our own, regardless of who got in."

"Fantastic idea, Skywarp. The first round's on you," came the near-cackle of the Head of the Science Division. The doors hadn't quite had time to seal all the way from Skywarp's entrance before they re-opened to admit Starscream. The slim mech's optics were agleam with a smug "I-told-you-so" expression as he continued once the other three had turned to face him. "'Let's all bet on the army-mech. There's no way he could lose against some barely-sentient labor drone!' Great call, that." Thundercracker snorted as Skywarp mock-growled and Skyfire let his head drop almost to his chestplate as he pinged the plum-colored aide. [What did I tell you? Gloat, gloat, gloat.] His response was a wider grin from Thundercracker as he quieted.

"I don't believe I used the term 'labor drone'." Skywarp's rebuttal was met with ever-present snark from his superior. "Yet I don't hear any denial on the 'barely-sentient' label." Skywarp scowled and cycled his vents. "Let's just go, already. The sooner we get 'clocked, the sooner I can forget what an aft I've made of myself." This prompted yet another laugh from Thundercracker. "From the sound of it, we might be at this all night." Skyfire's wry response of "I think that's the idea" was drowned out by Skywarp's offering of "oh, frag you!" Thundercracker chuckled and said as calmly as he was able, "Not for all the high-grade in this system."

-0-0-

The newly-crowned Optimus Prime and Megatron stepped into the room that would serve as the Prime's official receiving quarters amidst the latter's grumbling. "There's a planet-wide tavern-crawl taking place because of us, and we can't even take part yet? That is such sla-"

"Peace, brother. We'll have our chance to play guest of honor soon enough. But you know as well as I that the well-being of our race takes precedence over festivities, regardless of their cause." Megatron cycled his vents in mild annoyance as he swept an arm out toward the nearest viewing portal. "Tell that to all the department heads getting 'clocked off their faceplates out there. If not for the fact that I insisted on having no less than half our military force as lookout, we'd have Quint ships so far up our inebriated skidplates-"

The room's door chime sounded before Optimus could attempt to curb his brother's rant. Suppressing the urge to cycle his own vents, he turned to his brother. "Tell you what. We'll deal with the most important half of our respective tasks before joining the parties. Fair?" Once he got an acquiescent grunt from the taller mech, he signalled the door's sensors to admit their guest: a senatorial-model roughly two-thirds the height of the newest Prime, white with rare splashes of red along the chest area. Megatron's expression brightened a bit as he recognised the third mech – it was, after all, he who had authorised the newly-minted Lord High Protector's command rank at the height of the Quintesson conflict.

"Senator Ratchet," said Optimus, in what he hoped was his best "official" voice. "To what do we owe this unexpected honor?" The senator bowed his head in the usual sign of deference given to the Emissaries of Primus, albeit with a smirk present. "With all due respect, your 'Prime' voice needs a bit of polish."

For the second time that cycle, Optimus was caught off-guard. This time, however, he couldn't stop himself from shuttering his optics in shock. "I…wait…what?" Ratchet's smirk escalated to a full-on grin. "As do your vocabulary circuits, it seems." At this point it was all Megatron could do to keep himself from laughing openly at his brother. "Cut him some slack, senator. You know his vocal processors won't be upgraded until the rest of his protoform." At this, Ratchet turned to the silver mech, his grin never fading. "The same could be said for you, youngling. Hardly the inspirational voice I'd expect from the one who now leads our every defence force."

Optimus refreshed his speech circuits loudly enough to gain the senator's attention. "Can we help you, senator?" Grin fading somewhat in an attempt to obtain the serious demeanor warranted by the issue he had come to present, Ratchet turned back to the Prime. "I wish to withdraw my candidacy for the next senatorial election." The blue mech felt himself recoil as if struck. "Withdraw – you're retiring? Now?"

Ratchet raised an optic-guard at the young Prime. "I've been serving since just before Kup became our Head of Military, and Pit knows I've more than done my time since." Seeing that Optimus either could not or would not speak, Megatron stepped in. "Where will you go? By your own admission you've been around longer than the two of us combined. In all that time there can't possibly be a field you haven't sampled."

The senator's faceplate crinkled in amusement. "I may be old, but my spark's still got plenty of life left. And in any case, you're wrong. I'm certainly no stranger to manual labor," he nodded toward Optimus in acknowledgement, "and even commanded my share of troops in battle." Here, his voice dropped. "Primus spare me from the rigors of field command. Never again." His voice regained its original volume and tone as he continued. "It's actually that stint in the field of command that prompted my new chosen career path." Seeing he had the full attention of both leaders, he continued. "I wish to move into medicine. I'd have done so after the last war; but between the political turmoil of that and Sentinel's rise to the office and title of Prime, my stay in the Senate was more or less forced."

Optimus shuttered his optics in confusion and – though he would be loath to admit it to anyone save himself – mild panic as he spoke. "It is precisely that turmoil of which you speak that makes me question your decision. We will need your guidance."

Ratchet's reply was intended to be soothing, even if his tone was not. "I see great promise in the pair of you. You'll do fine without me vetoing your every motion. Besides," his voice turned to steel, "I'm not asking so much as telling. I AM leaving the Senate, with or without your blessing. Should you choose to fight my decision I will simply leave Cybertron altogether, and let you deal with the stigma of driving away one of her most beloved senators. Alternatively, if you allow this gracefully, Cybertron gains another much-needed medic, and you two score major points with her populace." Slyly, he concluded his argument. "Would you deny an old mech the choice of what might well be his last dream?"

Megatron's derisive snort of "You make it sound as though you've one foot in the Well" was ignored by both Ratchet and Optimus (though the former sniggered internally) as the Prime sagged his shoulder-struts. "I'm told it's a long-held belief of the Primes that freedom is the right of all sentient beings, regardless of form or age. My brother and I both took a vow to uphold that view when we accepted these posts. Very well. The details and documentation of this move will be finalised once the festivities have ended. I'd ask you to reconsider, but even us lowly dock workers are aware of your…reputation."

An amused rumbling came from Ratchet as he replied. "My incredible stubborn-ness, you mean?" Optimus looked slightly abashed as he corrected Ratchet. "I was thinking more along the lines of 'not easily dissuaded'."

"And to think, you were worried about needing a hand in politics," snorted the now-former-senator. "I reiterate. You'll do well in your post. Both of you will." He bowed his head one last time in an indication of his intent to depart. "With your permission, my Prime?" Optimus nodded. "You have my blessing, Senator. Follow your path, wherever it may take you." With a nod, Ratchet turned and left the room. Once the door had sealed, Optimus' entire frame slumped as he turned to his brother. "Frag this. You had the right idea all along. Ready to hit the parties?" Megatron's smirk was as wide as it had ever been as he answered, "It's been vorns since you've told me I was right. Come, Orion. Let's imbibe until we can't process higher command functions."

As the doors sealed for the final time that cycle, Optimus lamented that losing a senator on the first day was "a Pit of a way to start my career in politics."

-0-0-

_Next time: hungover science geeks, wagers are revealed, more players arise on fate's gameboard, and the seeds are sown for Cybertron's darkest chapter._


End file.
